


retrátame

by Giinemonogatari



Series: There is blood [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Biting, Blood Drinking, Feelings, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Pining, Rimming, bad porn nonetheless, small spoon chanyeol yo, soft porn?? i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 01:35:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12244566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Giinemonogatari/pseuds/Giinemonogatari
Summary: Chanyeol draws portraits that tell stories and Minseok doesn't have any.





	retrátame

**Author's Note:**

> this made me emo and it is trash enjoy
> 
> warnings: too emo to edit it

 

 

Chanyeol can’t stop staring at it, brows knit and lips pursed, the butt of the graphite pressing on his chin. It’s a finished work, but he keeps digging up the mistakes, wants to add more details, or throw it into a fire and watch it burn. The urge to scrap it after the gasp inducing hours spent on it are filling him, even the littlest misplaced line is making him anxious. There can’t be perfection without imperfection, he thinks over and over, but is a hand squeezing his shoulder, softly, that drags him out of his self-imposed misery.

 

He turns his head back and is met with the most beautiful of smiles, so tender, so perfect. Ah, that is why he could not convince himself, he remembers, of nothing perfect would exist in a world that’s not perfect. But _everything_ about Minseok is perfect. There are absolutely no flaws on his whole being, and Chanyeol can’t see him as less than a living―somewhat―masterpiece. And perhaps his artist eyes are messed up, maybe there are imperfections he could not see. Something could be blinding him, something that he might be aware of, something he doesn’t want to be aware of.

 

Minseok is perfection, the kind he wants to translate into his drawings, but couldn’t.

 

Couldn’t for Minseok―after losing his humanity, lost his memories as well, and hadn’t been able to see his own reflection since―would not let Chanyeol draw him. Chanyeol draws portraits that tell stories and Minseok doesn’t have any. The vampire doesn’t remember, and doesn’t want to.

 

‘to what do I owe the pleasure?’

 

Minseok doesn't know himself, the past him. His present self is only five years old, he’s like a newborn for the immortal, but estranged to such a world. Five years is enough, it’s totally enough for Chanyeol, and the artist in him would always wait for the day Minseok says yes. Chanyeol wants to draw his story no matter how short it is, from every single strand of his hairs, to the tiniest curve of his lips, the soft line of his jaw, the mesmerizing eyes of his.

 

‘it’s time to eat, have you missed me?’

 

He wants to write his story in countless strokes, charcoal dust, glitter puff. Wishes he could do justice to his beauty in any form of art his hands could craft, but Chanyeol is only human, and yet can’t do the impossible. The light in the room has dwindled, and he can’t see any better as Minseok removes his specs, puts them over his worktable, makes him sit over his rumpled bed. The studio is as messy as he is unkempt, loose papers and sketches everywhere, loose strands of hairs from his careless ponytail, paint on the floor, paint on his shirt, charcoal smudges on the white walls, charcoal smudges on his face that Minseok gently wipes away with his soft hands, and he’s so close no wonder, no wonder his heart can’t keep it down and his blood just rushes, up to his cheeks to make them rosy and warm, down to somewhere he’d like to disregard, for now.

 

 The weak rays of twilight that sneak through the waving curtains trick his vision and shows him a rain of sparkles enveloping the vampire in front of him, as if it wasn’t enough that he is already ethereal. A tad bit more of mystical. An extra portion of magical, two teaspoons of unreal.

 

Yes, he’s missed him, so much. He’s missed how raw his emotions get when he’s there, how much his muse seduces him into creating the best of his best. Chanyeol has missed Minseok, and it feels like it is Chanyeol who needs to be feed or he’d die instead of him. He isn’t as patient as the vampire, he’s needy and whiny and thirsty for his love as the other is for his blood. He’s the one who says please in a breathy moan when Minseok’s fingers brush past his chest as he rids him of his mucky shirt, he’s the one to undo Minseok’s pants with shaky hands and unfocused aim. He’s already hard and way too hot when Minseok starts kissing him, arching his head up and trailing those fingers around his long neck, Chanyeol’s breath hitches.

 

Minseok’s small fangs caress his lower lip, a tiny bite before he begins to trail kisses down his chin, his adam’s apple, his shoulder, his clavicle. Chanyeol’s hands are wandering their way into Minseok’s briefs and the vampire chuckles in response to Chanyeol’s sudden air intake. One hand travels its way to Chanyeol’s long hair, pulling until there is no more give, until his neck is in full display, so tempting, ready to be devoured. The other slaps the human’s hands away, he whispers be a good boy and wait in Chanyeol’s ear. Chanyeol is wetting his own briefs.

 

The pain of the first pierce bursts into a myriad of colors under Chanyeol’s fluttering eyelids, behind his back rolling eyes; a ton of music notes threaded within the long, loud moan that leaves his gaping mouth. The kind of image that has made its way into many of his canvases and became gold in his bank account, the kind of sound that could be heard from the lips that he draws when he gets lonely. Minseok sucks and slurps and he can’t be a good boy and keep still, he’s too desperate to stop his fingers from stroking himself inside his pants, dig his thumb on the wet head’s slit. He’s feeling so much of everything that his eyes tear up, his mouth waters. He’s drooling when Minseok is done, at least he was a good boy enough not to come yet.

 

His hips twitch as Minseok licks the blood that has trailed down with the slobber. And Chanyeol is back to begging and whimpering and please let me, please touch me, please, _please, please._ Minseok decides not to torture him anymore and let go. Chanyeol is too weak to stay up, he falls on his back, long intakes of air, no strength left in his limbs, he’s like putty under Minseok but it’s better this way. He’s so pliant that he doesn’t realize Minseok has completely stripped him. His eyes can’t find him, the dark of the night has finally come in, but firm hands grip his thighs, push them up, up, up until his knees touch his chest. So exposed, vulnerable.

 

The breeze that enters and ruffles papers around the studio is cold and makes him shudder, his skin blooming with goosebumps, and then, Minseok is licking him, his tongue travels the luscious skin of his inner thigh slowly, leaving tiny bites behind every long stripe, soft kisses. These are all praises, unspoken words of you’re beautiful, so precious, the most precious that later will be in each of the strokes of his brushes. Chanyeol whines louder, wanting Minseok to ravish him whole, and finally, _finally,_ Minseok’s tongue ventures the crevice of his ass, licks over his entrance, has his toes curling and his mind almost breaking. He’s fisting the sheets so not to touch himself, Minseok is going to make him come from eating him out only and that’s all Chanyeol really wants.

 

His tongue prods inside and he’s no longer coherent, his words cut short between sobs and him worrying his lips. Minseok’s fangs graze his cheeks lightly, and his dick is so painfully hard he wants to give in, but he doesn’t. Right now he is Minseok’s artwork, and he’ll turn out a masterpiece as he always does. Debauched and rendered a useless mess. Minseok grabs one of his hands and interlaces their fingers for a moment, so reassuring, and then guides that hand behind one of his knees to hold. Slim fingers join his tongue inside Chanyeol, two pushing past his rim and crawling in until knuckles make them stop and it takes just a few thrusts to have him writhing, spilling all over his tum. And the explosion of colors and the music ricocheting off his heart finally break through the shell and, once again, the void inside him overflows with art.

 

Chanyeol isn’t conscious enough to watch until Minseok gets off, his come joining the mess on his skin, and he later might regret it, for one of his favorite things in the world is the melodious sound of pleasure that paints itself on Minseok’s face when he reaches completion. But he wakes to them snuggling, and his heart starts racing for this is something new, this is something better. Minseok never stays long, he often left little after feeding. It’s already bright outside. His breath fans behind his neck and Chanyeol’s got enough blood to actually blush, their limbs tangled under the blankets. He’d put the bandages himself this time, Minseok has taken care of him.

He holds a hand against his chest, wishing his loud, rude heart would calm down for once. Lets out the tiniest scream when Minseok snickers behind his back, tightening the embrace, back to chest, bringing him even closer. It’s unfair how he’s fallen out of love with art to fall again for it. It’s unfair Chanyeol loves Minseok so much that he’s become a better artist.

 

‘Chanyeol, I…’

 

But also Minseok gives him so much in exchange of so little. He gives more than he realizes, and Chanyeol takes it all, all of it, because he will make it flourish in his works, and make him love Minseok even more.

 

Chanyeol turns his head back and is met with the most beautiful face, Minseok’s messy hair, pillow marked skin. So perfect. So tender.

 

‘would you draw me?’

 

 


End file.
